Touch of Power
by Rose Ice
Summary: Harrys' summer takes a turn, when mysical being dressed in white robes follow him around and only he can see them, guardian creatures who vow to protect him at any cost, new and uncontrollable powers are released in him.
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter 1**

**The sun was out and it wasn't showing any mercy to anyone willing to be outside that day, not that any one was willing to be out there. That includes one Harry Potter, formally known in the wizarding world as The-Boy-Who-Lived. Harry would rather be any where than where he was; at that moment, unfortunately for him, he did not have that choice. Harry grunted as he tried to pull another weed from his Aunt Petunia's flower bed-this one was as stubborn as its brothers and sisters that he had already pulled. Sweat pooled off his face as he tugged at the weed, and the heat radiating from the sun was making everything worse as it beat on his skin. It just made him more light-headed and tired, but he was determined to pull that one stubborn weed. As Harry tangoed with the weed he felt it bite into his skin. He was tugging at the weed for one thing: he had learned that a bit of hard work kept his mind off of what had happened at the Ministry of Magic. Harry tugged harder at the weed.**

**Harry had taken everything the Dursleys had thrown at him without complaint, it kept his mind busy and the hard work was paying off. Although he was still short, he was no longer the skinny, wiry teen he was when he left Hogwarts. He was still undernourished and on the skinny side, but no one could really tell unless they were looking hard at him. His body was covered with smooth, small muscles, but not overly done; giving him a nimble look which suited him fine. Harry cursed as he tugged harder on the weed. What was with this one weed, why couldn't he pull it? Irritated, he wrapped his right hand around the top of the weed and his left around the base and tugged. Sweat fell from his face and dampened his already wet T-shirt. The weed's blades sliced into his skin until his hands were dripping blood. What Harry didn't notice was that the blood that fell from his hands glowed silver and white, like unicorn blood. His shirt was now soaked with sweat, but he didn't care; he was determined to pull the weed from the ground. It wasn't really the weed that he was trying to get rid of but the symbols it represented; Sirius, Voldemort, Snape, Dumbledore, Hogwarts, the Dursleys- all in all, that one weed represented everything that had went bad in his life. Tears fell down his face when he thought of Sirius. He should have been alive, he should have never died, never been sent to Azkaban. With one last gasp, Harry pulled the weed from the ground and fell back a few feet. What appeared to be an egg was tangled in the roots of the stubborn weed, and silver-white blood had soaked the ground around the weed and covered the egg.**

**Harry ignored the pain in his hands and gently lifted the egg. As he observed the object, he saw that it was embedded with tiny diamonds. He tenderly removed the weed's roots from the egg. It felt fragile as he rolled the oval-shaped jewel in his hands. He pressed one of his fingers into the shell, and as he did so, the shell seemed to bend to his will. A little a dent appeared when he lifted his finger. Fascinated, Harry watched as the dent disappeared before his eyes as if the egg was made of sponge. He placed a curious finger on the shell again and pressed, but, to his amazement, he couldn't get another dent on the egg's surface. It seemed that the egg adapted to whatever happened to it. Very handy for an egg, Harry thought. He continued to stare at the egg, for how long he couldn't really say. It seemed to soak his blood right into the shell, and a white light glowed before the dimming and disappearing completely. Where the shell once was white was now silver; it was no bigger than his palm. Awed, Harry continued to examine the egg; he didn't have a clue as to what animal could possibly lay an egg like this. Holding it, he felt a sort of rightness, a connection he supposed, between him and whatever resided in the egg. He hesitated before placing the egg gently into his pocket. He quickly scooped up the dirt that had been stained with his blood and packed it into his pocket with the egg and shoved the weed that held the egg into his other pocket.**

**Moving carefully, he placed the other weeds he had pulled earlier that day into a garbage bag and dragged them to the front of the house and threw them away. Harry walked back into the house when, really wanting to run, but he didn't want to raise any kind of suspicion. He walked into the kitchen and poured himself a glass of milk and made a ham and cheese sandwich. After he was finished, he washed his plate and cup and left them to dry in the sink; he didn't want to worry about his Aunt Petunia yelling at him for being in her kitchen. He walked into the living room and past his Uncle Vernon, who was sitting on the sofa reading the newspaper, and cousin Dudley, who was enthralled with his video game. Neither Dudley nor Vernon saw him, and they likewise didn't see him as he snuck a box out of the hallway closet and dashed back upstairs. Once he reached his room, he closed the door and jammed his chair under the handle. He walked over to his bed, pulled the box from under his arm, and set the box upon down. Once he had the dirt in the box and firmly packed, he made a hole in the dirt large enough for the egg, but still snug. He gently pulled the egg out of his pocket and placed it in the hole. From his other pocket he pulled out the blood-stained weed. He didn't notice that the blood was now its usual red instead of the silver-white color. He placed the weed over the egg and watched in horror and fascination as the roots rewrapped themselves around the egg. Once it seemed that the plant was in a comfortable position, Harry molded dirt around the plant and gently patted it down.**

**It wasn't until he was done that he realized how filthy he was. Dirt and sweat covered a majority of his body. Sighing, he took an amazingly quick shower learned by years of living with the Dursleys. Harry fell into his bed, exhausted; he was asleep before his head hit his pillow, so he didn't see when the weed gave a faint shudder and silver and gold flowers bloomed all over its branches.**

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**A/N:**

**My Beta reader is the beast!**


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

Two weeks since Harry had found the egg, and he was still performing the same dreary occupation. Harry groaned as he bent to pull the last weed from the garden. It was uncanny how they kept on growing, no matter how many times he would pull. For every one that he pulled, three to four more weeds would pop up in its place. Harry had a suspicion that Petunia would sneak into the garden at the middle of the night and replant them, just to give him something to do the next day. He was sorely tempted to grab his wand from the safe and hex the damn weeds to hell and back, ministry or no ministry. If he never saw another weed in his life it would be too soon. The damn things were more bothersome than Voldemort. The next time he and Moldybutts dueled, all old Snake Skin had to do was throw a bag of weeds at him, or Dudley, and he would go running in the other direction. The magical world could defend itself. They never had to pull weeds by hand.

He could almost see the headlines now, HARRY POTTER DEFEATED BY WEEDS? Article by Rita Skeeter. Snickering, Harry continued to weed the garden without hexing them. Well, he knew Snapes' next birthday present. He wondered what Snape thought of weeds? Smiling, Harry thought back to a certain weed and the egg that came with it.

Flashback

Harry threw down his pen, one of the wonders of muggle inventions, and stretched. Finally, he was done with his potions essay. Getting up from the hand-me-down desk, he approached the box that held the plant and the egg. He watched as the sun made the petals of the flowers glisten and shine. He was not going to touch it again, he had learned his lesson regarding that.

It was then Harry heard it; it was like something out of a horror movie. Yes, despite the Dursleys' best attempts to keep him uncultured, he did know what a movie was. He could hear it, first a thump, then a pause¦ thump¦ thump¦ pause again¦ thump¦ pause.  
Harry raised an eyebrow and glanced at his glass of water. With every thump, the water in the glass would vibrate, and each thump would shake the water more so than the last. Anyone with a sense of wit knew what was coming, and anyone with a sense of wit knew what to do next.

Without hesitation, he went around the room and hid anything that resembled magic and anything else that his relatives might consider "unnatural."

He had just finished hiding the last of his things when the door to his room burst open, and there, for all his glory, stood the great white whale. Or, if you took in his squished face and his snout like nose, the great round pig. Harry snickered at the thought and watched as Dudley caught his breath from the short walk up the stairs.

"Hey freak," Dudley grunted as he tried to squeeze his way through the door opening. All of Harry's self control went to controlling the urge to laugh out loud at Dudley's entering strategy. "Dad wants to," he paused pathetically here to catch his breath, "wants to talk to you." As he pushed through the door he squealed, actually squealed! Harry's left eye twitched as he stifled his laughter. His eyes were watering and his body was shaking from the effort it took, and after a while, it seemed that he had finally got his laughter under control. He watched as Dudley explored his little room. He was really starting to worry about the condition of his floor, for every time Dudley took a step, the wood would moan as if it were in pain; it probably was.

"What's this? Freak!" He added the last "freak" as if it was an afterthought, as if he had to think about it. Harry glanced at him and all the color was flushed from his face in a matter of milliseconds. Dudley was poking at the plant on his desk, the plant that Harry had somehow managed to forget about. He tried to think of a distraction to grab Dudley's attention, but he didn't have to bother. "It's a weed!" Dudley threw his head back and laughed, exposing his many jiggling chins. Harry felt slightly sick at the sight; "I always knew you were a freak!" He turned and walked away, squeezing his way out of the room and leaving a very white-faced and confused Harry behind.

Harry could only guess that it was the creatures in the egg that had disguised what the plant really looked like from Dudley. He was now certain that he did not want whatever was in that egg to hatch.

End flashback

Harry stood up and looked around the garden; finally he was done. He felt like dancing around the garden with joy; he almost started dancing, but then the phone rang. Groaning, he walked into the house, but not before removing his dirt-covered shoes; he didn't want to dirty Petunia's nice clean floor with his grubby shoes, now did he? Yeah…right. After making sure that he had removed all the dirt from his person as best as he could, he answered the phone.

"Dursley residents, how may I help you?" Harry thought that he sounded like an answering machine or, more precisely, a suicidal secretary, but the Dursleys thought otherwise. They thought that he sounded refined.

"BOY!" Oh, bloody hell! He knew that voice.

Harry replied in a monotone voice. "Hello Aunt Marge. How can I help you on this fine evening?" Harry wanted to wash his mouth out with raw soap after that last bit. This forced politeness was a form of torture that the Dursleys employed on him.

"Don't take that tone with me boy!" Harry pulled the phone away from his ear and stared at it with raised eyebrows. "You ungrateful little hooligan, go get your uncle. You should be so lucky to have ended up with him. If it had been me, I would I have sent you to an orphanage, you little horror. You-" Harry rolled his eyes and placed the phone on the table top. If there was anyone who was worse than Vernon, it was Marge. Harry could still hear her talking about ungrateful little brats when he went to get Vernon, who he found sitting on the coach reading the business section of the newspaper. Dudley was sitting on the other end of the couch watching the telly.

Harry waited a bit before he cleared his throat to get his uncles attention; Vernon lowered the paper to glare hatefully at his abnormal nephew. The look said, in plain language, "How dare the little snot interrupt me?"

"What do you want boy!" Harry could feel his face as it first went ashen then turned green. It was gross, really gross. He had to take a few breaths to keep himself from throwing up. "Well boy, what is it?"

Harry grimaced as he watched the spit fly from Vernon's mouth and down his many chins. The only thing that came to Harry's mind was cruel and unusual punishment. Trying not to actually look at him, Harry relayed the message. "Your sister's on the phone asking for you, sir."

Grumbling, Vernon struggled to get up and answer the phone. Harry's left eye twitched as he watched Vernon thrash about to get up. It was almost as bad as watching Vernon give his chins a shower with his spit. While the spit shower was gross, beyond reason gross, the picture of Vernon's body jiggling as he stood up was an equally disturbing image.

Shuddering, Harry pushed both images out of his mind and looked at Dudley, who was still watching TV; some American show called Wheel-of-Fortune. Truthfully, Harry thought that the only shows that should be allowed on television were news.

Vernon came stomping into the room, his steps shaking the ground a little bit, and the pictures on the wall rattled. Harry could hear the dishes and silvery clink and clang in the cupboards. It was amazing really, that both Dudley and Vernon were able to shake the ground just by walking. That had to break at least one of the rules of physics. Vernon's face was purple as he stomped up to Harry; large thick veins seemed to pop out of his almost nonexistent neck.

"Boy!" and here comes the spit shower again; Harry thought that he just might prefer to see Vernon struggle to stand up again, at least then he was safe from flying missiles of spit.

"Yes uncle?"

"Marge is sick and so she can't take care of her dogs, she's going to need help. She requested that she had help sent over immediately, but she didn't want your freakish self there, not that I blame her, but that means we have to leave you here by yourself. We already asked Mrs. Figg to watch you, but she just now informed us that she would not be around to. So while you are here, you are to follow the same rules as you do now. You got that boy?"

"Yes Uncle Vernon."

"Good, now go and help your Aunt pack."

Harry kept his face normal as he walked into the kitchen and thanked whatever god that was watching him.

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A/N:

You guys have better thank my betta reader, if it wasnt for her, i would have never been able to repost all this.

OH! and Foz, just want to say thanks for being the most dedicated reader/reviewer i have, this whole story is dedicated to both my beta reader and you Foz.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

It had been three weeks since Harry had found the egg, three weeks since Harry had discovered the silver and gold flowers that had bloomed on the weed.

Flashback

Harry groaned as he woke up to the sun shining in his eyes. He knew that he needed to get the Dursley's breakfast ready. He grumbled and reached for his glasses, not really wanting to move; it felt as if he had only five hours of sleep. He squeezed his eyes shut, glad that

Petunia, his so-called 'aunt', had let him sleep in. He was midway through putting on his glasses when it suddenly occurred to him that his aunt or anyone else living in the house, would never let him sleep in. Sadly, they took pleasure in tormenting him. Harry shoved his glasses onto his nose and scrambled to get dressed, ready with an excuse as to why he was still in bed and not cooking Dudley's breakfast. He stopped in his tracks when he realized that the source of light that had woke him was not coming from the sun, as he first thought, but from the box that held the weed. Harry stared at the glowing plant, his mouth agape. It no longer was a weed. The flowers that had seemed to bloom over night were silver and gold and glowing.

Harry was bewildered. Each of the flowers seemed to radiate its own light, and as Harry's gaze passed over them individually; each flower seemed brighter than the last. The same feeling Harry felt when he held the egg was with him as the light touched him. It was calling to him, pulling him toward the - whatever it was. As if being pulled by some invisible force, Harry slid off his bed and walked toward the plant. He held his right hand over the weed and hesitated; he wasn't sure this was a good idea. Shaking off his nervousness, he touched one of the leaves with the tip of his finger. The sensation that greeted him made him want to scream bloody-murder. The moment his finger touched the silver leaf, it felt as if all the blood in his hand was pulled to that one point in his finger. He whimpered when he felt four different types of magic shift in his mind, he tried to fight it but it was like trying to capture sunlight in a net. He felt it as the magic shifted through his mind and pulled all of his past memories, thoughts, feelings, and all his occurrences to the surface. Harry was forced to watch his life from the very beginning. He watched as his mother gave birth to him, as his father jumped for joy.

Harry tried to close his eyes to shut out the images but they just become sharper, clearer than before. He was forced to watch his whole life over again; his first birthday, his first word, his mother as she sang him to sleep, his father as he levitated him around the house, pretending he was flying. He watched as Sirius and Remus came over and played with him. Never once did he see Peter Pettigrew there, and for that he was glad. He didn't know how he would have reacted if he saw Wormtail there. And then he saw their deaths. He couldn't stop himself from watching, despite his best efforts. Voldemort killed his father, then went after his mother. He could hear her screaming, yelling at him to not to take Harry. Then there was a flash of green light and then nothing. He watched as Voldemort turned his wand onto him and utter the words, "Avada Kedavra." The spell raced toward baby Harry, and, instead of killing him like it was supposed to, it rebounded and struck Voldemort, leaving him in a pile of ashes.

Harry didn't realize he was crying it, and as tears fell from his face he watched the night he became the Boy-Who-Lived. He paid no attention to what was happening now; he felt too cold and empty inside.

It wasn't until he heard three voices that he realized that he wasn't alone, two of them were male and the other a female.

_"Aahhh...Master cries for what he once had." _

_"Yes. Morns that he lives, does he wish to die still then?" _

_"No, he wants revenge, to kill the one that almost killed him, to avenge his parents. He has a good soul, pure; he carries great power, more than most, more than all, even. Master will become great and do great things."_

The voices were familiar to Harry. They sounded as if they belonged to snakes, but unlike when he spoke with snakes, these voices pronounced their S's correctly, and their words didn't trail off as it did with snakes.

_"He carries much on his shoulder, so much for one so young; he is strong in his own way, yet so very weak." _

_"Master is very strong, stronger then he knows, but you are right he is still young, and so he is still very weak. But then that is why we are here." _

_"He listens to us; he hears us and doesn't speak." _

_"He hears us, how is this possible?" _

_"His mind is more open than others, he believes while others continue to deny our existence." _

_"But..." _

_"Quite you! Do you not feel it; our presence in his mind is hurting him we must leave at once!" _

_"Ahhh... I hadn't noticed. As usual you see things we do not. We will leave." _

_"Agreed. We shall leave at once; we can't have our charge in pain because of us."_

As Harry felt the voices presence leave he called out a thoughtless, "WAIT!" Harry felt the voices in his head pause; he could feel their emotions, their confusion.

_"Yes, young master?"_

Harry hesitated. When he called for them to wait he had no reason; he only knew that, despite the pain in his head, they comforted him, and he really didn't want them to leave.

"Who are you, what are you, why are you in my head?"

"_Young master, we are many things, but at the same time we are nothing. When we are born, we will be a creature with three minds bout one soul bound to the one foretold. We are in your head because you called us; we search through your mind to judge you_."

If Harry could see his own face at that moment, he was sure that one of his eyebrows would be raised in skepticism. "That sounds like another prophecy. I'm beginning to hate those things, there are too many for my liking. And as for calling you, I never called you, I don't even know how to call you, and why do you need to judge me?"

_"Little one, one does not need to know how to call us to actually call us, they just need to need us and we will come."_ The voice of this one was female, soft yet strong, compelling. It was like listening to garden. He could hear the flowers as they danced in the breeze, the bees as they moved in and out of the garden, the leaves on the trees as the rustled in the wind, the grass as it hugged the earth, the rain as the droplets sang their music, and the sun as he drummed his heat beat. It was amazing.

_"As for judging you, we had to decide if you were worthy enough."_ This voice was definitely male. It sounded young and mysterious. Strangely, it also sounded sort of like George and Fred when they were up to no good, but also like Sirius, like a favorite uncle. Harry was becoming more than curios about these voices.

"Worthy for what exactly?" he asked.

_"As to whether or not you are worthy of us, we must know what kind of person is being granted the power we offer."_ An old, mature and strong male voice, greeted him. It was powerful but patient and it reminded Harry of a mountain. He felt so safe and secure just listening to it. "_And we must leave because your mind cannot hold us any longer. If we stayed, you would go mad."_

Harry felt their presence leave his mind, and he was abruptly thrown back into his world. He was still in his room, still barely touching one of the golden silver flowers. The only difference that he could detect was that it was now night outside when only minutes ago it was light. He was surprised to discover the tears streaking down his cheek. Drained, Harry stumbled to his bed and fell asleep, and for the first time since he got to the Dursley's, he slumbered without a single dream.

It had been three weeks since he had found that egg, three weeks since he had spoken to the voices, and three weeks later, it was now starting to hatch.


	4. Chapter 4

(_Female speaking_)  
(**Younger Male Speaking**)  
(**_Older Male Speaking_**)

Info: for later chapters: each of the creatures can only mind speak when they are in there animal form, but if they are in human form they can both speak like a human and mind speak.

Chapter 4

Harry was, for the first time in his life, cooking his breakfast and enjoying it. Without the Three Terrible Three, as he called the Dursleys', hanging over his every move, he actually enjoyed cooking; kind of like potions without Snape. Sniggering, Harry could imagine Snape's face contorting in some sort of horrified sneer upon telling him that. The thought was almost enough to make Harry bold enough to tell him the next time he saw him--almost.

With years of practice behind his motions, Harry took the bowl of pancake mix and poured the right amount of it onto the pan, dipped a spoon into the container that said 'I Cant Believe It's Not Butter!', pulled a dollop of it and dropped it into the pan with the now browning pancake mix. The heat melted the butter, and it sizzled around the edge of the pancake. With an expert hand, he slid the spatula under the pancake and flipped it in the air, where it revolve three to four times and landed perfectly back into the pan with a perfectly golden top. After placing the pancakes onto a plate, Harry moved onto the pan that was slowly cooking slices of ham. He was about to turn off the stove when it happened. All of his senses went mad. He could feel the slight breeze in the kitchen, but to him, it felt as if sand paper was tearing at his skin.

The light that was streaming in from the kitchen window was blinding his eyes; and it was so bright that it was as if he was staring into an endless tunnel of light that he couldn't escape.

The smell of the food was so incredibly overwhelming that it turned his stomach. He could smell the meat of the ham, and it was like smelling burning flesh. Harry gagged, the acid from his vomit burning his throat and mouth. He kept on retching, even when there wasn't anything to throw up anymore. The smell that was amplified was so vile that he felt as if his nose was on fire. Gasping, Harry tried to push himself off the floor, but it felt as if the normally cool stone was freezing cold, and it was burning the palms of his hands. He fell to his face; what would have been normally mild pain felt like millions of needles and nails pounding into him. The smell of burning meat assaulted his nose; it was too much, it was killing him. He reached up and grabbed the pan to stop the smell of rotting and burning flesh, but the heat from the pan burned into his flesh, causing him to cry out and drop the pan. It fell to the ground with a clatter, and the deafening noise was like millions of chimes and bells ringing loudly in his ear. Harry clutched his hands to his ears to try and drown out the noise, whimpering and then rolling into a small ball.

He didn't know how long he was on the floor, but when it seemed that he was able to finally move, he slowly stood up to his feet. When his senses didn't immediately send waves of pain through him, he slowly cleaned up the mess that he created and threw away the breakfast he made. Amidst all his suffering, he had somehow lost his appetite. His muscles were sore and protested any movement he made. It was when he was washing the dishes that he noticed the embellishment that was engraved into the palm of his right hand. A snake was curled at the base of his hand, its head raised and staring at-well-him.

He could see what seemed like swirls of patterns on its back and face. Above the snake was a dragon that stood on its hind legs and seemed to be frozen in the act of breathing fire. Its wings were spread wide so that its tips reached the sides of his hand, Harry could see every muscle of the dragon move under its leathery skin. And over the dragon stood a phoenix that it stood proud and majestic, its wings by its side. Harry could identify every feather on its body. Its eyes were black and seemed to penetrate straight into his soul.

Shivering, Harry stuck his hands into the sink and scrubbed furiously at the pots and pans. His task completed, he went into the living room, turned on the television and gazed at it with inattentive eyes. He was trying to ignore what happened in the kitchen and what was on his hand. Unconsciously, he rubbed the designs on his hand with his other hand; they felt like they had been burned into his skin. Harry was just glad that his relatives weren't around to criticize and judge him.

Harry stared at the marks on his palm; he knew that somehow, their appearance was connected to that diamond-covered egg. He didn't know if this was a good thing or not, and he didn't want know either. He ran the tips of his fingers over them, knowing that they were there to stay. He didn't notice it at first, but pain was creeping its way into his hand. Harry realized that the markings were glowing red and pulsing. Grasping his wrist with his other hand, he watched as blood seeped out of the snake, dragon, and phoenix. It looked like someone had taken a knife and re-curved the design into his palm. Gasping with pain, Harry stumbled up stairs, leaving a trail of blood behind him. He didn't notice when he ran into a wall and a photo fell, nor did he notice when he reached the door to his room that light was shining from under it. Shouldering the door open, Harry stepped into a tunnel of blinding light. The pain in his palm seemed to get worse; it felt as if someone had directed the Cruciatus Curse right at his palm.

What was worse was that voices were filling his head, spinning around him. He felt as if his body was being torn apart, and he didn't know what to do. It was too much: the blinding light, the voices, and the pain. Harry threw back his head and yelled. A wind seemed to have come out of nowhere, and it whirled around him, lifting him off the floor. He felt something under his skin, but he didn't know what it was. It was a part of him but somehow separated. Harry couldn't see that his body was emitting a light that was brighter then the one the egg was giving out, a light that could drive out all darkness and evil. Both lights went back to their original owners, then Harry opened his eyes just in time to see the plant emit a soft light and flash once, twice, three times then turn to ash. He watched as, out of the dirt, three creatures crawled out and stared at him. All of them had the same colored eyes: melting amber that seemed to pierce through his soul. Harry stared at them, took one stumbling step backward and said, "This is Fate's way of laughing at me."

Then he promptly lost consciousness.

Harry was awake, but he didn't want to open his eyes. He knew what he would see if he did: three creatures curled up on Dudley's old desk gazing at him with those watchful eyes. Harry continued to lie on the floor without moving; he twitched a little when he heard a soft thud as a small body landed on the floor and slither toward him. One of the creatures wrapped itself around his wrist so that its head was resting in his palm near the design that was burnt into his skin.

Now that he thought about it, the burn might not have been from the pan but from these creatures. Harry opened his eyes and stared at the ceiling of his room. He never noticed, until now, how many cracks there were. He wondered how that spider web got into the corner of the ceiling. Harry continued to study the breaks in the ceiling when he heard two pairs of wings fluttering from the other two creatures; he ignored them and looked at the spider web. Where was the spider, was it dead or making its home in another place? A slight weight dropped onto his chest where the creatures landed, making his breathing just vaguely harder, like when he falls asleep with a book on his chest. It didn't stop his breathing, but it was bothersome nonetheless.

"**Is he the one, is he marked**?" one of the creatures on his chest asked as he shifted into a more comfortable position. He felt the creature curled around his wrist lift its head, probably to look at its fellow companions.

"_Yes, he is the one, although reluctant to be it_." Harry pretended to not have heard them as they spoke about him; so far he had counted over twenty-five cracks in the ceiling and still counting.

"**Why is he reluctant**?" Over fifty-five cracks in his ceiling, interesting.

"_He just wants to be normal, feel his emotions not his power. You should be able to know that_."

"**He is pure in his heart and his mind**."

He wondered if Vernon would lend him something to patch up those cracks.

"_**He is pure but his heart is much damaged. He will need our help to heal and our protection to lead him through many of his expeditions**_."

Harry, having decided that he had been on the floor long enough, stood up. The two creatures on his chest beat their wings to keep from falling to the ground, and the one curled around his wrist tighten its hold. He could hear the other two creatures as they followed him when walked out of his room, trying to ignore them. He grabbed his potions book and walked down the stairs, continuing to ignore the creatures, even when the ones flying landed on his head and shoulder. He wanted to grab them and throw them out of the house, yelling, denying that this was happening to him, but more than likely that would not go well.

Humming a song he heard on the radio, Harry went into the living room, lay down on the couch and opened his potions book to start to read. At least he could pretend to read. For a while no one said anything, and every minute or so Harry would flip a page in his book. The sound of flipping pages was oddly loud in the quiet room.

"**Why do you pretend that we are not here? Do you not wish us to be here, do you want us gone**?"

Harry turned a page in his book, not really reading it. "Because this is not really happening, three magical things did not just burst from some diamond-coated egg in some sort of tornado of light and fire. You all are just a part of imagination, a hallucination brought on from all the work the Dursley's made me do. In other words, you don't exist." Harry turned a page to the book he wasn't reading.

_"**Why do you believe us false**_?"

"Just because," Harry turned another unread page.

"**Why**?"

Harry placed his book down, his finger in it to keep his place, took a deep cleansing breath and looked at the three creatures. Well, two of them, one of them was still perched on his head.

"Because I refuse to believe that there is a snake," Harry lifted his wrist where the snake was curled around his wrist. She was most definitely not a normal snake. Her scales were each a different color, ranging from gold, brown, red, orange, bronze, and green, and each scale seemed to shimmer when it was struck by light, as if they were coated in a glaze of sorts. "A dragon," Harry pointed to his shoulder where it was promptly licked. The dragon wasn't like any dragon Harry had ever seen. In replace of his scales, this dragon seemed to have leather-like skin that gleamed and shined with each movement. He could see the muscles work as it moved its body. Its coloring was as odd as the snake's; silver, blue, and a soft yellow swirled together. It was like watching a colorful pensive. "And a phoenix," this time Harry pointed to his head, where said phoenix was tugging on his hair slightly. Unlike the snake and dragon, the phoenix actually had feathers like it was supposed to. But its coloring was more intense. Pure white feathers coated his body. It was like light was captured there, and his wings were tipped in ink, night black, as if Death painted it there himself. It was a startling contrast between the two, the white feathers as light as anything and the tipped black feathers as dark as Death, "perched on my person talking to me. I refuse to prove Rita Skeeter right; I am not insane. Thus, you so not exist."

Harry picked up his book and opened it to where he last left off and continued to not read his potions book.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

The sand was golden and warm, it felt nice to walk barefooted, and, unlike the sand at a beach, there were no rocks or shells to hurt him as he walked. Harry looked at the golden sand; not all of it was gold. In fact, it didn't seem to be gold at all, just an intense white that was glowing and reflecting a golden light. Harry smiled as he looked at the glowing white sand. It was, for lack of a better word, magical. He could sense the power radiating off of it and moving through him, and the feeling was spectacular. Harry gazed further out into the sand to look at it, and it appeared to stretch for as far as the eye could see. It was all so simply beautiful. Harry didn't know how he got were he was, but he didn't care. He felt as if he could forget all his troubles here. He could forget his past, he could forget who he was to himself and the magical world, he could forget where he was from and why he was there, and, most importantly, he could forget his future.

Harry walked a while, exploring this new and wonderful world. There were no mountains in the distance, so the sunset was unblocked and immaculate, and what a sunset it was. Shades of gold, blazing reds, soothing oranges, delicate yellows, exquisite pinks, and wisps of white decorated the sky. The sun itself was a roaring ball of red fire sitting on the edge of the horizon. It was amazing. Harry didn't know how long he walked, but he didn't even care. His feet didn't hurt, and he wasn't tired. He felt better than he had ever felt in his whole life. Laughing, Harry fell to the ground where he could be more comfortable while the laughter escaped his mouth. His laughter was carefree and joyful; he didn't want to leave this place, ever, wherever he was, it was too amazing. He could feel the warmth form the sand through his clothes, which consisted of loose and breezy pants of a black silk that caressed his slightly muscled legs. His shirt was also loose and breezy, like his pants, but was white instead and had a large split down the middle, forming an open V on his shirt, showing off his slightly tanned skin. Everything felt good to Harry. Sighing, He placed his arms beneath his head to make a pillow of sorts and closed his eyes. He could stay here forever; he wanted to stay here forever. He had no intentions of returning to his life of pain.

Harry didn't know how long he laid there with his eyes half closed, but all he knew was that he could suddenly hear the voices of approaching people. He closed his eyes all the way, not wanting to greet these intruders, wishing they would go away.

"I told that he was here." One of the intruders said, male by the sound of it.

"That you did, we are sorry that we doubted you." Female this time and familiar, their voices sounded familiar. Harry waited as they talked about him, for there was no doubt in his mind that they were talking about him. Harry listened as they walked toward him. Now that they were closer, he could tell that there were three people. Something told him that they didn't belong in this world. Harry could sense their…energy, he supposed, because whatever he was feeling wasn't magic at all. They stopped by his head, and he could feel them as they stared at him. He really hated it when people started at him, and he wanted them to stop staring and leave. This was his paradise, and they were ruining it.

"Young one, you must wake up." That voice, and the others, they were so familiar to him; why did they sound so familiar to him? Harry opened his eyes and looked into three identical pair of eyes. It was like looking into molten amber. It was beautiful and disturbing at the same time. The female was standing just above his head, looking down at him, while the two males stood at the other side of his head doing the same, forming a triangle in the process. The female had an oval face with soft freckles dancing across the bridge of her nose and the high of her cheeks, her face had a cascade of long, thick, tight red curls, and her large eyes were tilted on the end and framed by thick red lashes. She was beautiful, simply put. The man standing to the right of Harry's head was taller than the women. His body was lean and muscular, his eyes were identical to the woman's, and his spiked blonde hair glistened in the light. The man to Harry's left towered over the other two. His body was more muscular and wider, also; his eyes were like molten amber but also frozen ice, an eerie combination, and his mouth was set in a hard line reminiscent of Professor McGonagall's. His black hair fell to his shoulders, and at his temple it was colored white, suggesting that he was older than he looked at first glance.

They were all dressed similar to Harry except in different colors. The women wore red and gold, while the younger man wore silver and white, and the older one wore just plain black.

"Who are you?" The three people gave him identical surprised looks. Harry couldn't fathom why.

The women looked at him hesitantly, "Do you not recognize us?" Harry stared at them for bit. Only their eyes seemed familiar to him, and then only vaguely. Other than that, he didn't recognize them from anywhere that he should know of.

"Should I know you?" Harry was baffled as the young male smiled, the female frowned, and the expression on the older male didn't change at all.

"I think you should know us," the younger male was speaking now, "since you were there when we were created, and when we judged you, and hatched!" The smile on his face widened, and it took Harry a bit to understand what he was implying. When he did, his eyes grew wide and he scrambled to his feet.

"No way," Harry started to back up from the three people standing in front of him. He now knew why those eyes looked so familiar. "No way, this is not happening, no bloody way in hell is this happening!" Harry paced back and forth, every once in while looking up at the three people and mumbling incoherent words. Harry threw his hands up and the air and yelled, "WHY ME! WHAT DID I EVER DO TO DESERVIE THIS! WHY?" Harry stomped up to the three people and pointed a finger at first the women. "Let me guess. You are the snake," she nodded, "and you," Harry pointed to the younger man, "are the dragon." He received a nod again, "and last but not least, you're the phoenix." The old man gave a slight nod in his direction in acknowledgement. Harry glared at them.  
"I hate you."


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

Harry stared at the three intruders; they appeared to be siblings, two brothers and one sister. They had invaded his utopia, bringing with them the knowledge that he couldn't leave his past behind him and start anew, wherever he was. Harry turned around and presented his back to them, hoping that they would recognize the sign of great disrespect, and sat down on the white, golden sand. He shifted the sand with his hands and fingers, building small hill, then knocked it down.

"Why are you here?" Harry didn't look at them, even when they walked around and kneeled in front of him. The women grabbed his face and forced him to look at them. Their eyes were the same, but each expressed a different emotion. He still didn't stop playing with the sand.

"Harry, we…you see, what-" She didn't finish, and her eyes were filled with such remorse. What did she have to be sad about? They were the ones who had intruded his utopia. Sighing, Harry looked into her dark amber eyes, the eyes that were so exposed, showing him her emotions plainly. The women touched her hand to Harry's cheek, but he jerked away from her.

"Don't touch me." Harry continued to stare ahead at the sunset, "You don't know me, I don't even know you, just don't...just go." Tears filled her eyes as she moved toward her bothers; the two men each placed an arm around her waist. Guilt battled with Harry's feelings of separation, but in the end, he suppressed them, so that inside he was numb. The young man with shimmering blonde hair moved away from their small group to kneel in front of Harry. He grabbed him by the chin and forced him to look into his eyes.

"Why don't you want us, why reject us? We haven't done anything to you, have we?" He tilted his head as he stared at the young adult in front of him. Harry's eyes flashed with life, with anger.

"Do you know what I was thinking of before you," he glared at all three of the people, "before you interrupted me?" He continued before they could answer. "I was thinking of how bloody wonderful it was that I was alone, how perfect it was that there was no interference of the outside world, no reminder that I was the bloody Boy-Who-Lived. You could practically hear the capital letters! Then you people showed up." He didn't yell. He only stared at them with his emerald eyes, the eyes that were, by the minute, filling up with tears. "Why couldn't you leave me alone? I don't care what happens anymore, I just want a normal life, I just… just want be left alone." Harry lay back down on the sand. He could still feel the warmth coming off it and sinking into his skin, keeping any coldness away. He didn't notice that tears were falling from his closed eyes, staining his cheek as they traveled downward.

There was a lengthy pause before any of them spoke.

"Harry I, **WE**, don't know where we should begin. This is just as hard for us as it is for you," the women spoke.

Harry looked mournfully up at the sky. He hadn't noticed until now that the sun had set, but instead of darkness, the sky was becoming a lovely mix of dark red, orange, and gold; soon stars started to appear. Harry liked it like this. "You do know where we are, do you not?"

"We do."

"Then why don't you start by explaining as to who you are, what you are, where we are, and how we got here. And how," Harry gestured their form, "How you are in human form, maybe?" The women smiled sadly at him.

The young woman took control first. "I, my young friend, am called Demeter. My bother here," Demeter pointed to the young blonde man with shimmering hair, "is called Dionysus, and this is our oldest brother." She pointed to her other side to the man with shoulder length black hair tinged white at the temples. "He is called Ares."

Dionysus took over the talking from here, "As to where we are, young friend-"

"Don't," Harry interrupted, "call me that. You people are neither my friend, mate, companion, or anything else for that matter, so don't address me as if I were."

Dionysus cleared his throat, "Yes, well -um- then Harry as to where we are, you should know, since this place is, well, your magic."

"What!"

Dionysus smiled; it really did remind Harry of Fred and George when they were up to some mischief or another. "Everyone has a magical place Harry. For some wizards, well less powerful wizards, it isn't a place, but more of a tower or sphere filled with what would seem like colored light. Others have animals. For them, the size of the animal betrays the power status." Harry could feel his left eye twitch as he listened to Dionysus explain what a magical place is. "These objects, animals, or places represent the magic in a person; the magic in a person will take a shape or form to describe his or her power. These places, things, and animals can only be seen on a magical or spiritual plane, which is where we are."

Harry couldn't stop his eye from twitching even if he wanted to; as of now, he was too shocked to do anything. He took one deep breath and exhaled, then a second breath.

Inhale, exhale, and again.

"Okay…that explains what your names are, but not what you are, or why you're here," Harry said the last part under his breath. "You tell me what this place is, but that doesn't exactly explain exactly where I am or how I got here or even why I am here."

Dionysus threw his head back and laughed. It wasn't a mocking laugh, more of an amused laugh. "Smart aren't you?" He didn't let Harry answer before continuing, "Where we are: we are on a spiritual and magical plane." He clapped his hands and rubbed them together for a moment before kneeling next to Harry. "Imagine, if you will, an empty sphere. Now imagine in the sphere your five senses; touch, scent, sight, hearing, and taste. This would be considered your physical plane. Got that?" A nod from Harry prompted him to continue. "Now imagine around the sphere a cube. In the cube, imagine a ghost, just a ghost. This is called the phantom plane. Around the cube, there is a triangle, and in this place reside energy and dreams, but NOT magic. Oh, no, magic is completely different from energy and dreams, but we will get to that in a bit. So, in the triangle, you placed energy and dreams: the two things that allow muggles and wizards alike to stay conscious everyday and fueled to move. Now, here is where it gets a bit confusing."

"It's not confusing yet?" Harry mumbled under his breath. Ares and Demeter gave him encouraging smiles, but Dionysus didn't seem to notice.

Dionysus sat down in front of Harry as he continued to explain. Harry's head was starting to hurt a bit from all this information he was getting. "Now, we already have a sphere, a cube, and a triangle, right? Okay, so around the triangle, can you imagine another sphere? Only this time, color it a sort of see-through green color. Did you do it?" Harry nodded. "Good, now in this green-colored sphere, place all magical creatures, including wizards and witches. Alright, and around the green sphere, imagine a rose-colored triangle. There you would place angels and demons. And around _that,_ you would have a pale golden cube. Now this is going to confuse you a bit because here I want you to put magic." By this time, Demeter and Ares had become tired from standing, so they sat crossed-legged on the ground next to them. "Now, how is it that magic could be on a higher plane than angels and demons, you ask? Well, it is because the magic you and angels and demons use is the same but it's not really magic. Don't ask what it is because I don't know, nobody knows. Magic is just a name it is given." He didn't even take a breath before plundering on to the last part. "Now, in-between the colorful shapes and non-colored shapes, imagine a thin purple line. On this purple line is where everything is mixed, and that is where we are, any more questions?"

Harry stared at Dionysus, who was still smiling, "Hermione will love you." Dionysus threw back his head and laughed. "Ok, thank you for that--um--educational lecture; it really did explain where this place is where I am. Now how about telling me why and how I am here, who you are and not just your names; PLEASE! Try to keep it short." Harry quickly added that when he saw Dionysus open his mouth, which he promptly closed at Harry's statement. Demeter laughed and Ares lips just twitched at the ends, even though his expression never changed.

"Dionysus never keeps anything short," Dionysus shot his sister a glare, which she ignored. "I will explain the rest to you."

Dionysus and Demeter traded places so that now she was sitting in front of Harry and Dionysus was sitting next to his brother.

"How did we bring you here? Well, you aren't really here. I know," she quickly added when Harry opened his mouth, "you can feel, hear, smell and taste everything here, but you are not _physically _here. Remember that purple line Dionysus told you about? Well, there, all of your five senses are active because, while you are not here physically, you are spiritually. This is where I explain how you got here. Well, we took your soul and brought it here." Demeter smiled at the simple explanation.

"YOU DID WHAT?" Harry's mouth dropped open at that statement, he had a soulless body back on earth, they killed him, he can't believe it they had killed him. "You killed me? You killed me! YOU KILLED ME! I CAN'T BELIEVE YOU KILLED ME!" Harry jumped up to attack them, only to be stuck motionless halfway.

"Listen here, you silly boy, we didn't kill you." Harry glared at Ares, who was talking for the first time since he had seen him, and still his face remained expressionless. "We just removed your soul from your body for the time being, much like those dementors you have back on earth. Unlike them, however, we will return it when we are through talking to you."

Once Harry was able to move again, he dropped to the sand, sat cross-legged, and glared at them before mumbling under his breath, "Sorry. I didn't mean to do that, I just lost my head."

"Its ok Harry, we understand." For a bit no one spoke. Harry didn't even look at them because he was slightly ashamed that he went after them like that.

"Perhaps you could tell me why you brought me here?" Demeter smiled at him; he had taken the first step in accepting them, to a certain degree.

"On earth, we are newly hatched, and our mental control hasn't had the time to develop its power, and we have to adjust to our newly-acquired bodies. We can't turn human or mind-talk on earth yet. Here we can."

There was a slight pause, "And why do you want to talk to me?"

"Harry, when you spilled your blood onto us, you connected us to you like no other. We are here to guide you, to help you choose the right path and take control of your magic. Harry James Potter, son of James Potter and Lilly Evans Potter, we are your guardians sent to you by the gods and goddesses themselves. We will be here for you whether you want us or not. We are yours and you are ours."

Harry felt a sharp pain in his chest. Before he could do anything about it, the land around him glowed brilliantly white and gold, blinding him; then, he knew nothing.

Harry sat up on the couch; he had fallen asleep reading his potions book. His body was coated in sweat. Sighing, he threw off the sheets that covered him, and then proceeded to have a close call with a heart attack. He was dressed in the clothes from his dream. Apparently, it wasn't really a dream.

"What the bloody hell is going on?"

Harry felt them before he saw them. Turning around, he stared into three pairs of molten amber. The snake, the dragon, and the phoenix: Demeter, Dionysus, and Ares. They had names, now, and they were very much real.

"Bloody hell, it wasn't a dream." Harry could feel their response more than hear it. "Damn it, why is this always happening to me?"


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7

(_Female speaking_)-Snake - Demeter  
(**Younger Male Speaking**)-Dragon - Dionysus  
(_**Older Male Speaking**_)-Phoenix - Ares

3 weeks after the dream-

Power…body…rebuilding…make it…die…new…life.

Pain, so much pain, he couldn't see, where was he, what was happening? He needed to breathe; something heavy was on his chest. And why couldn't he see! What the bloody hell was going on!

_"**Potter wake up. There are some…strange creatures walking up the way-drive."**_

Harry mumbled and corrected him, "Driveway." They still hadn't gotten the basics of modern speech, but they were doing better then usual. Harry grabbed his glasses off the desk and placed them on, only to have to stare into the face of Ares in his phoenix form.

"Well I guess that explains why I couldn't breathe. Would you please get off of me?"

Ares moved off of Harry's chest and to the side and waited before repeating what he had earlier stated.

"_**Potter there are some strange creatures walking up the drive-way**_."

Harry jumped from his bed, grabbing his wand from under his pillow, and ran toward the window to look out to see how many Death Eaters he assumed were coming; how the heck did they find him? Wasn't he under some sort of protection? Harry glanced out the window and laughed aloud. The_ creatures_, as Ares had called them, were his so-called family coming back from Aunt Merges.

"Those are not creatures, Ares; they are, unfortunately, my family, even though they don't look it."

Harry watched as the Dursley's walked up the driveway. To Harry's greatest displeasure, right behind them was Marge herself. Life couldn't be more unfair. Sighing, Harry hid his wand in the loose floorboard under his bed and laid back down, but he didn't immediately go to sleep because he knew that the Dursley's would come and get him to 'help' with the luggage. He couldn't wait.

5…4…3…2…1

"BOY! Get down here and help your Aunt with her belongings!"  
Right on time, Harry smiled; time to give his 'family' a little shock of their own.


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8

Info: I don't know if you had already noticed, but I like going back and forth to different times in my stories, so at times it might be a bit confusing, sorry.

(_Female speaking_)-Snake - Demeter  
(**Younger Male Speaking**)-Dragon - Dionysus  
(_**Older Male Speaking**_)-Phoenix - Ares

Four days after the dream-

Green eyes stared back at three pairs of identical amber eyes. No one said a thing, no one made a move, and all was quiet. The silence was almost deafening, but no one was willing to be the first to make any noise of sorts. Harry continued to stare at the three creatures, the three creatures sent to drive him nuts and make his life a living hell. The silence was closing in on him, and he couldn't take it any longer.

"What do you want?" The three creatures flinched, startled. They weren't expecting Harry to yell at them. Of course, neither was Harry. When they had settled again on top of the coffee table, glaring at him and without words or thoughts, they told him what they needed. It was…disturbing. He could feel their every feeling. Groaning, Harry went toward the kitchen and assembled a bowl of fruit and brought it back to the small group. He watched them devour the food placed in front of them. Harry had never seen a snake swallow a piece of fruit but he could honestly say that it was quite…odd. When they had their fill of the fruit, they curled into a small, strange pile and fell asleep.

When it seemed as if they were all sound asleep, Harry walked out of the room and into the back yard where Petunia's garden was. Choosing the tree as the perfect spot, Harry walked over to lay under it. The grass was moist and cool, and it poked him in his back and dampened his clothes, which were still the same cloths that he wore in the dream--thing. Harry stared through the branches of the tree; with the sunlight playing through the leaves of the tree it was an almost hypnotic sight. The light filtered in and out of the branches and leaves as a passing breeze moved them slightly to and fro. Harry didn't know if he fell asleep or not, it was as if he was in a simultaneous state of awareness and sleep. His thoughts drifted to Demeter, Dionysus, and Ares.

They irritated the hell out of him, since after the 'dream' he had; they had been hovering over him and watching him. It was most disturbing, especially with their latest tactics of protecting him.

It had started to really get on his nerves, and two hours ago, he lost his cool.

"GET OUT!" Harry pointed towards the door of the loo, "WILL YOU GET THE BLOODY HELL OUT!"

Harry felt their answer; they still weren't able to mind speak with him, and he couldn't wait until they did. Feeling their answers and other emotions was just plain creepy. This time, their answer was less than pleasing. They didn't want to leave him. They were supposed to be guarding him, and guard him they would.

"GET OUT! GET OUT! GET OUT! I CAN VERY WELL USE THE BLOODY LOO WITHOUT YOU WATCHING! OUT!"

The three creatures flew out of the bathroom, the snake draped over the shoulders of the dragon, and the door slammed shut behind them of its own accord. Apparently, they could do small bits of magic undetected by the ministry. Growling, Harry thought of ways to get rid of his supposed guardians.

They annoyed Harry to no end, and he had ventured outside and settled under the tree to escape their company.

Harry didn't know how long he had been there, lying and just staring at the sky through the trees leaves. He was completely unaware of his surroundings. He didn't even notice when Demeter, Dionysus, and Ares came out from the house. Dionysus and Ares were sitting on one of the branches of the tree, and on the other side of the tree was Demeter. They all had their heads faced towards the setting sun, and all were in their human form.

* * *

Over three miles away, in the middle of a cavern set deep into the earth sat a large, silver bowl engraved with writings, drawings covering its rim. The water inside of it shimmered as the images of Harry and his guardians faded and disappeared, leaving behind nothing but the still, clear blue liquid. The persons that surrounded the bowl were dressed in robes that were so white they seemed to glow in the darkness of the cavern. The hoods were left up and covered their faces so that their appearances remained hidden. Their plans required secrets, and many of those secrets were kept even from the other group members.Each of them departed the room using a different a technique. The first, a woman, lifted her hands; the room cooled slowly, and her body became transparent, her profile a soft, smoky white. After a few moments, she became one with the wind, and she disappeared from the chambers in a final wisp of white air.

Another woman stepped away from the group; she held her hands in front of her, too, and her soft white skin slowly turned to a murky brown. She began to literally crumble, the room became humid as vines from the earth pulled her into its embrace, and soon all that was left of her was a scatter of dirt where she once stood.

Next, a man walked toward the darkest parts of the cavern. With each step his image grew darker, his robes changing with him, until he had reached the shadows. By this time, his person was darker than night. He looked like the muggle equivalent of death, with billowing black robes and a body that was just as black. When he took the final step into the darkest shadows, he became them and then vanished.

The last man stepped into the tiny ray of sunlight that managed to creep into the cavern. His transformation was the most spectacular. He and his robes seemed to soak up the sunlight until he was glowing as bright as the sun. He held his arms out to his side and tilted his head up, smiling, the light radiating off of him and filling the cavern. Still, his skin seemed to drink in the light, growing brighter. Suddenly, with a single blinding flash, he was gone.

The four arrived in a muggle home only five away from Harry's, each arriving in the same fashion they had left. Once the last of the group had arrived, they went to prepare for the coming of their new charge.


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter 9

(_Female speaking_)-Snake - Demeter  
(**Younger Male Speaking**)-Dragon - Dionysus  
(**_Older Male Speaking_**)-Phoenix - Ares

They had watched him as he matured and faced countless tasks; the Philosophers stone, the abuse of the Dursleys, the Triwizard Tournament, the Chamber of Secrets and the basilisk, the death of a loved one. Those were only the stepping stones to the real path he would soon be walking. Whenever it seemed as though he would not be able to continue with his task, they were tempted to assist him but were quickly reminded that it wasn't their time to interfere yet. More than once they had watched him as he encountered one hardship after another, walking away from them, each and every one, hurt but alive. That a child was the one prophesied was a great disbelief to them all. The younger Guardians argued that a human child could not be the one, no matter what he had done or how much he had faced and accomplished. He was still a human child, unable to comprehend the very essence of what they were their nature, their very being. To allow a child to take what they had strived for throughout their entire lives would be a disgrace to the very system by which they lived.

The older Guardians, the ones who had seen the Era of Obscurity, sided against the younger Sentinels; they had not seen humankind when Darkness was its mistress, ruling with an iron hand, slaying any and all who dared to oppose her. The Guardians of Old not only witnessed such destruction, but played a role in her creation and annihilation.

A young human female was once given a chance to hold great power, but she was too easily corrupted by that power. She thoughtlessly took over what used to be a compassionate, gentle world and tainted its beauty. She would sit silently on her throne, which was made of black roses and thorns that never touched or scratched her; at her right hand sat Death, silent and deadly, waiting for his chance to strike, and at her left hand was the Devil, ready to collect the souls he was greedy for. It was an endless bloodbath. She was their mistress, and with them she ruled humankind as a child would play with her dolls. Where once there stood a young woman of purity, a power-corrupted madwoman resided. She was no longer what she was before. Her eyes turned black and emotionless, and her laughter struck fear into all, including her most loyal followers.

Such darkness could not be permitted to exist, so in an agreement, the Guardians of Old had taken what powers they held and formed another being, one of pure power, made of innocence and righteousness. The power came forth in the form of a child, a child of heavenly qualities. They taught the Child everything they knew and more; they showed that, with each choice that was made, there would always be a consequence. They taught the Child how to listen to the earth's song and how to dance to it. They showed the Child how to call power without causing pain and suffering to itself. They taught it everything they knew, and then the time came when the Child would fulfill its purpose: it was time to destroy a great evil.

Yet they could not predict what was to happen. They had created a good to destroy an evil, but which evil was to be vanquished? A first evil was set loose into a world of purity, a blood stain in a blanket of white snow that continued to spread, corrupting all it touched. That one corrupt woman spread her disease. No longer was the world they were striving to protect innocent and good. It was now a bleak; dark world were all innocence and goodness were gone. Because of one evil, all were tempted and tainted. The Child did not know which evil to vanquish; everything around it was wicked and beyond any hope of retribution. So with one breath, the Child wiped the world clean. All was pure again but at a great price. Their perfect being had drained itself; it had used all of its powers and energy to make the world new.

But in the Childs death was created a new life, a child with the trait that would be passed down through the generations until a worthy soul emerged. This soul would be given the gift of power, a power that would be greater than the Childs ever was.

It was decided that the Guardians would watch over each new child that held the touch. They had even went so far as to create earthbound Guardians to watch over them and make sure that never again would one with so much power become corrupt. Their task was to guide and teach the holder of the touch, until the worthy one came. And so the Guardians took apprentices and taught them their way and what was to be done. They passed on all their knowledge, so when they died the apprentices became Guardians, and those would take apprentices and continue the tradition that was so highly considered a law amongst the Guardians.

* * *

Harry bowed his head as he carried Marge's luggage upstairs to the guest bedroom; instead of the respect Vernon thought he was showing, his head was bowed to hide the smile that graced his mouth. Vernon was ranting and raving about his new look, and Harry had to work hard to keep from bursting in to fits of giggles. Of course, how dare Harry start seeing without help from his glasses, what's Dudley going to do to torture him now? And how dare he grow his hair long, it was a disgrace to the family, and if anyone was to see him, the Dursleys good name would be dragged through the mud. Still hiding his smile, Harry placed the luggage inside the guest bedroom and went down to retrieve the rest before starting on Dudley's midnight snack. Ripper dogged his every step, growling at him; at least he wasn't biting him like he had the last time Marge came to visit. Once finished with the luggage, Harry made his way into the kitchen and started on the BLT's for his relatives. All the while, Harry could hear his Uncle Vernon yelling, saying how he was going to shave his head until he was bald. Harry smiled again to himself as he flipped the bacon.

"Uncle Vernon?" Harry had to bite the inside of his cheek to keep from smiling.

"What do you want, Boy!" If Harry didn't know any better, he could have sworn that there was less spit that time.

"The Order just wanted me to tell you that they called to say, "'hi.'" Vernon quickly shut his mouth as his face went red then pale, as did Petunia's and Dudley's. Dudley also grabbed his behind with his hands when Harry said that, and Harry had to hide yet another smirk. Silence filled the kitchen, and the only apparent sound was the sizzling of the cooking. Vernon, Petunia, and Dudley knew who the Order was, but they did not know its purpose. Marge just looked at Harry with a curious, malevolent look. The only people Harry knew of to pull off that look were Dudley, Vernon, and Marge; it must have been hereditary.

"Who is this 'Order' Vernon?" Marge spat out. Although she had five less chins than Vernon, the effect was quite the same, considering there was more spit sputtering from her mouth than Vernon usually had.

"No one, Marge." Vernon was glaring at Harry when he said this, a glint in his eyes that told Harry that if he dare say a word to the contrary, he was going to pay dearly for it, Order or no Order. "Just some business associates of the company, I'm trying to get them to sign on."

"Now you see that, Boy," Harry swore that if it were up to his 'precious family' his name would officially be 'Boy', "your uncle makes a good living doing what he does, and what of your parents, hmmmm? What did they do? Nothing! That's what! They were lazy bums that deserved what they got, it just a bloody shame that you couldn't go along with them. Then you wouldn't be here, creating such a burden on Vernon and Petunia." Marge stared at him with gleeful expectation, expecting Harry to explode as he did the last time she had bad-mouthed his parents. Petunia stopped fretting around the kitchen and looked at the two of them with wide eyes, out of fright or shock, Harry didn't know. Vernon looked as if he was going to be sick. He obviously recalled the last time something strangely familiar to this happened. It hadn't turned out well. Dudley just whimpered and hid behind his father.

Harry ignored his family and didn't say a word; he raised his eyebrow at Marge, placed the plate of BLT's in the middle of the table and went upstairs to bed.

Marge's mouth opened and closed, like a goldfish's. She didn't know what to think of Harry and his indifferent attitude toward her. "Humph!" She turned around in her chair and stuffed a sandwich in her mouth. "No respect for proper authority."

Harry was shaking with suppressed anger. GOD! How he hated that woman! Grabbing his pillow off the bed, Harry pressed his head into it and screamed, letting out all of his pent-up frustration at being the wizarding world's hero, the absolute frustration he felt for being manipulated, and his frustration he felt because of his family. He REALLY hated his family! Why, why couldn't he have a hidden aunt somewhere and be living there? Why couldn't he stay with Ron over the summer? None of this would have had happened if he had. Why did Sirius have to die?

That was the real problem. He missed Sirius badly and he wanted him back. Falling on top of his bed, Harry held the pillow close to his stomach and curled around it. Silent tears ran down his face. Oh, how he missed Sirius! They had had it all planned out. He was going to leave the Dursleys to live with Sirius and learn more about his parents. They were going to play pranks on each other and play Quidditch together. They were going to become a family; he was finally going to have a real, loving family. All these thoughts were swirling around inside him, and he didn't know how long he had been laying there. He didn't really care.

He felt the bed sag as Demeter, Dionysus, and Ares came into the bed with him. Demeter slithered close to his cheek, and he felt her tongue as it flickered at the tears that clung to his cheeks. Harry felt the bed move a bit as the other two curled next to him to give all the support they could. He didn't have the energy to throw them out, though, because, at that moment, he felt as if he needed all the support he could get.

* * *

The group around the bowl stood silent as the picture disappeared, each deep in their own thoughts. The two women left the room to stand in front of a silver ring. The ring glowed, and inside the ring a large hole appeared, revealing black stairs leading down into another room. Before entering the ring, the women summoned a brilliantly lit torch. They followed the stairs downward, and the opening from the ring closed, cutting off any light from the topside. The stairway twisted farther down the walls, glistening as the light from the fire reflected off the obsidian stone. The stone stairs led the women to a large white room, and, unlike the stairway, the room radiated a certain power. Banishing the torch, they walked to the middle of the room where a large circular pool was placed.

The women walked into the water and raised their hands above their heads simultaneously and started to chant words long forgotten, words long dead to the human race. The water that at first was transparent and crystal-like slowly filled with a golden light, until the water was shining as bright as any star. The women stood like that for two hours before the men entered behind them, and then the water shifted, and as the men entered the golden pool, the light in the water changed drastically. A blinding white bled into the gold, overpowering the white of the room. The men placed their hands to their sides and started to chant words similar to the women's' but slightly different, so that the powers wouldn't interfere with each other and destroy all they had worked for.

No one said anything; they all knew best what could and could not happen. The future of more than humankind rested on the fact that they succeeded. Failure wasn't an option for them.


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter 10  
_(Female speaking)-_Snake - Demeter  
**(Younger Male Speaking)-**Dragon - Dionysus  
_**(Older Male Speaking)-**_Phoenix - Areas

New body… little chance…survives…pray…touch…of… power…Touch…Power…Die!

Harry sat up in his bed so fast that it made him dizzy. He was covered in sweat, despite the near-freezing room temperature, and his breathing was irregular. Shivering, he wrapped his thin, worn blanket around his body and tried to remember the dream that had woken him up; all that he could recall from the dream was that there was a blinding light, everywhere, and the feeling that he was drowning.

OOOOOOOOOOOOO

Harry looked out his barred window to the still-darkened night sky. In four hours, the sun would be up, and in two more, his 'family' would wake up, expecting their breakfast to be ready and waiting for them. To his side, Harry could see the outline of Demeter, Dionysus, and Ares curled up into a ball. Since their last 'talk', they had toned down their guarding. He could now go to the loo without them following him.

Harry didn't know how long he had been staring out his window; to him it seemed as if it was only minutes, when in reality it was two hours.

Harry watched the sky slowly turn from its night black to the pale silver gray. He watched as the snow drifted softly by his window. Three weeks earlier, after a week of the torture that was Marge, the weather had started to act rather strange.

Three weeks before-

Harry was doing a little dance of joy. It had been one week, two days, and seven god awful hours since Marge and her little dog had come, and now they were leaving. Harry threw Marge's baggage by the door and heard something shatter. He didn't know what it was, and, frankly, he didn't care. Grinning, he grabbed another bag. This one was white with multi-colored dog bones decorating it and a bone-shaped handle; he could easily guess that this was Ripper's bag. Harry smirked, remembering Ripper's fate after meeting his new guardians face to face.

Harry had been hiding under the rose bushes from Ripper, who had taken a sudden fancy to him. Actually, it was his pants and shoes that Ripper fancied; he was sure Petunia was adding something to his clothes when she washed them. Lying down, he had watched as the clouds passed by. It had been a nice day, and through his connection he had been able to feel his guardians as they explored the area. Everything had been new to them. The last time they had hatched, the only means of transportation had been a horse-drawn carriage. It was both fascinating and oddly disturbing to know they had lived more than one life. So caught up in his thoughts, Harry hadn't realized that Ripper had found him until he had heard a threatening growl fill the air around him. His left eye had twitched, and, slowly, Harry had sat up and stared in frozen horror as Ripper had slowly advanced on him. A sudden, irrational fear had rushed over his body, paralyzing him where he laid. This was it, this was the end; he wouldn't be done in during an honorable battle between Voldemort and himself, or even while he was saving his friends. No, he was going to be killed by a dog an eighth of his size. Oh, the irony. Harry had closed his eyes and waited for his untimely demise. One minute passed, then two...when five minutes had passed and he still wasn't dead, he had opened his eyes to a sight that he would have never dreamed that he would see in a million years, in front of him stood one frozen dog and three glowing guardians. He hadn't been able to help himself; Harry had fallen backward and started to laugh, and then he hadn't been able to stop.

His guardians had stopped glowing and surrounded Harry during his laughing fit, and he had been able to feel their worry. They had been wondering if he had finally gone mad. To tell the truth, Harry had wondered if he had gone mad. After all, he had seized up in fear of a midget dog. What kind of wizard was he?

OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo

Throwing Rippers bag by the door, Harry wondered if his family was ever going to find the frozen statue of the dog.

"What are you so happy about, freak?" Dudley was leaning against the stairway, which, surprisingly enough didn't break under his forced weight. Harry was surprised he hadn't hears Dudley walk in.

"Nothing, its just such a beautiful day and all I though that I might spend it outside today doing aunt Petunia's garden." Harry gave Dudley an obviously fake smile and went back to moving Marge's luggage to the door. He was halfway through her bags when he heard Vernon and Marge walking toward him and talking.

"I just don't understand, where could have Ripper gone to? He would never ever leave my side!" Marge's voice sounded like a mouse on drugs: really, really high and winy.

"Don't worry Marge." Vernon tried to soothe her by rubbing her massive back. "If we find him I'll call you immediately. Just you wait and see he will probably show up two hours after you leave!"

Harry snickered under his breath. He was trying really hard to not to laugh.

Sniffing, Marge looked at her younger brother with hope glinting in her piggy eyes. "Do you really think so?"

"I'm positive. Why, that dog is as loyal to you as Petunia is to me!" Vernon threw his hand up in the air as if he had a brilliant idea, "In fact, I will have the boy go and search for him as soon as I can!"

A malevolent look replaced the hope in her eyes, "You will make sure that he is punished if he doesn't find poor Ripper?"

The same look that was in Marge's eyes filled Vernon's, "Oh most definitely."

Harry's face turned from amusement to outright disbelief. Oh, his family was cruel. He kept his face passive when Marge and Vernon came into the room. Marge had a look of disgust and hatred in her face when she stared at Harry, and as she grabbed one of the bags, she 'accidentally' smacked Harry in the back of the head with it.

"HEY!" Harry grabbed the back of his head and glared at her.

Marge glared back at Harry, "Hey, what boy!"

Grumbling under his breath, Harry went back to work moving the luggage. He really couldn't wait for her to leave. "Nothing," he said in a monotone voice.

Giving Harry one last glare, Marge went to the door opened it and let out a rather noisy and raspy gasp. Harry didn't bother to look up; she probably got hit by a bug or something.

"Oh my GOD, it's _SNOWING_!"

_Or not._ Harry dropped the bag he was holding and ran to the door to confirm her claim, just to see fluffy whiteness pass by his nose. All the while, these thoughts were running through his mind:  
"No. Oh, God, no. Please let this be a figment of my imagination. How the heck can it be snowing? In the middle of SUMMER?"

Harry didn't even notice when Dudley pushed him outside to stand next to his aunt. All he could hear was Vernon when he said, "Well, this is really bad; you will never be able to travel in this Marge. You can stay until this blows over. BOY! Take your aunt's bags back up to her room!"

Silently, Harry nodded; still screaming a single word in his mind. "NOOOOOOOO!"

End flashback-

Harry watched as the sun slowly rose, he really didn't want to get up. It would mean he would lose all the warmth he had collected under his covers. Sighing, he prepared himself for the cold-air assault he knew was coming before pushing back his covers. Vernon had decided that he was unworthy of the heater. Stretching, Harry got ready to fix the expected breakfast banquet for his family when the whole foundation of the house shook.

Grabbing onto his bed frame, Harry watched as everything in his room jumped and shook. Adrenaline surged through him as Demeter, Dionysus, and Areas quickly took a protective stance around him and watched his bedroom shake. In the hallway they could clearly hear THUMP, THUMP, THUMP, with a CRASH closely following. Then everything stopped.

Harry could hear Dudley and Petunia screaming in the silence that once filled the house after what he assumed to be an earthquake. Harry was shaking from the inside out. He didn't know what happened, and, quite frankly, he wasn't sure he wanted to find out.

Harry jumped up when his bedroom door was thrown open; Vernon stood there, his eyes bulging and red. "BOY! WHAT THE HELL DID YOU DO!" His bellow brought down the remaining pictures, that hadn't already fallen off of the hallway wall.

"NOTHING!" Harry held his hands up defensively to emphasize his point. "I really don't know what happened! I was just asleep when the shaking started! I swear! You know I can't do magic out of school!"

Glaring at him, Vernon was about to yell some more when Petunias voice came screeching down the hall.

"AAAAH! Vernon, Marge is _DEAD_!"

Harry and Vernon shared a rare surprised glance before running out of the room and down the hall. The sight that met their eyes was more horrific then anything they had ever seen, and that was saying something in Harry's case.

At the bottom of the stairs was Marge, her legs dangling in the air with her head through Harry's old bedroom, the cupboard, the smell of blood and alcohol filling the air, and the body of Ripper peeking through the rubble.

Marge was indeed dead.

Two hours ago-

After everyone had gone to bed, Marge had snuck out of her room to get the bottle of rum Vernon had hidden. Marge knew that he always had one good bottle of some alcohol hidden in the house.  
She found it between the roast beef and a slab of pork. Taking a look at the date, she read that it was over two hundred years old.

"Ahh, Vernon you always had good taste, except when it came to that blasted nephew of yours."

Taking a glass from the cupboard, she planted herself on the sofa and got thoroughly smashed.

One hour and thirty minutes later would find her in a drunken depression. "Ripper, oh Ripper, how I wish you was here!" Marge had been crying over her lost dog for almost two hours, and the rum bottle only had two to three inches or rum left in it.

"Ruff!" Marge's head lifted from its drunken state and stared at the door when she heard the bark.

"Ripper!"

"Ruff!"

Giddy with both the alcohol and joy, Marge ran to the door and wrenched it open, expecting ripper to be there. "RIPPER!"

"Ruff!" Marge followed the sound of her dog through the knee deep snow. "Riper, baby, where are you? Come to mama!" She continued to follow the sound of her dog all the way to Petunias rosebushes, where, hidden amongst them, was a frozen Ripper. To Marge's drunken mind, he was alive and jumping around, happy to see her.

"Ripper, you poor baby, look how skinny you are," Marge said, grabbing the frozen Ripper and holding him against her bosom, not really knowing that she was holding a dead frozen dog. "Who did this to you Ripper, speak to me; tell me who did this!"

In Marge's drunken mind, Ripper did speak. He looked up at her and said one name: "Harry Potter."

Gasping, Marge clutched Ripper's frozen body to her hers and marched to the house, planning on giving Harry a thorough punishment. She was halfway up the stairs to Harry's room when she stopped to look at herself in the hallway mirror. The dinner from last night was stuck in her teeth. Giggling like a horse, she took a toothpick from her front pocket and proceeded to pick her teeth. In her delusional state of mind, she needed to look presentable before yelling at Harry.

She was on her last tooth when it happened. Ripper, haven been frozen, was starting to thaw out and slipped out of Marge's hands and hit the floor. Marge gasped, thereby accidentally inhaling the toothpick and starting to choke on it. She took one step forward, tripped on the slightly thawed out body of Ripper, and proceeded to fall down the stairs. The whole house shook as she fell. On the third or fourth step, her head went through the stairs and into Harry's' old bedroom, where she hit her head against the floor. She died instantly. Ripper's body slid down the stairs behind her and ran into her.

Marge had died upside down, but nobody could really tell the difference.

OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo

"Well, as far as we can see, she was drunk when she died. She was on the stairs, and we still don't know how this happened, but she managed to choke on a toothpick slipped on the frozen dog, and fall down the stairs and through the cupboard where she hit her head and died instantly." The forensics where explaining to the Dursleys what had happened. Two of the men where still struggling with the body of Marge, but they just couldn't move her. One of them was ordering a crane to be brought in so that they could lift her.

Meanwhile, Harry was doing a little secret dance of joy. He really couldnâ€™t bring it in himself to feel sorry for Marge; she was cruel and evil and she was finally out of his life forever.

Half an hour later, the sun was up, the crane had arrived and Marge's body was being moved. Officer Copter started to examine the area where she died, and when he looked in the cupboard, what he found almost made him toss his dinner from the night before.  
Hurrying over to his partner, he pulled him to the cupboard and showed him what he had discovered. They both stared at depressing sight.

Copter felt ill, "Oh god, who would do this!"

His partner, Officer Goodwater was shaking his head out of disappointment, but said, "I have a pretty good guess."

Both the officers looked over at the family. While the mother, father, and son were obviously well-fed and clothed, the boy who stood apart from them was skinny and his clothes oversized and tattered. Officer Copter headed for the family while Goodwater walked toward the boy.

Harry tried his best to not to smile. He knew that once everyone had cleared and he was alone again he would be blamed for this. Harry was so wrapped up in his thoughts that he didn't notice that one of the officers wanted to talk to him until he felt someone tap his shoulder.  
Looking over his shoulder, he saw one of the officers.

The man was a little taller then average, with brown, fuzzy hair that reminded him of Hermione, and blue eyes that reminded him of Ron and the other Weasleys.

"Yes, can I help you?"

The officer smiled at him and held out his hand, "Hello, I'm Officer Goodwater." Harry took his hand.

"I'm Harry, Harry Potter."

Goodwater's smile dimmed somewhat as he continued. "Harry, I need to talk to you, would you follow me please?" It wasn't really a question, more of a pleasant command. Sighing, Harry nodded. He was led to a cop car and put into the back seat. When the door closed, the air next to him shimmered, and there appeared next to him his guardians.

Harry leaned over to talk to them. "What's going on, what's happening?"

In his mind he heard their cryptic answer: "_**The beginning and the end**_." The car started up and Harry was driven away from number four, Privet Drive.


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter 11  
_(Female speaking)-_Snake - Demeter  
**(Younger Male Speaking)-**Dragon - Dionysus  
**_(Older Male Speaking)-_**Phoenix - Ares  
'Harry mind thinking to his guardians'  
'Other people thinking'

The ride from number four, Privet Drive to the police station took no more than fifteen or twenty minutes, but to Harry it seemed to take an eternity. Even though he knew that no one could see his guardians without their permission, he was still worried that someone might at lest suspect something.

Subconsciously, Harry rubbed the lightning bolt scar on his head, both to remind himself of who he was, the Boy-Who-Lived the savoir of the both wizard and muggels alike, and as a safety measure; the scar reminded him that he could never be a normal person, that he literally had the weight of the world in his hands. Those thoughts made his heart beat just a little bit faster, his palms damp, and his mouth dry.

Taking in a shallow and shaky breath, Harry stared out the cop car's passenger window. He watched as the snow slowly fell from the sky and onto the already whitened ground; he watched with both curiosity and slight bewilderment as houses and neighborhoods passed him by. He had never seen any other houses than the ones near Petunia and Vernon's house, and they were all the same. Here the house actually had personalities. The lawns weren't neatly cut to perfection (at least, what Harry could see of them under the snow), the bushes weren't styled the same, the houses weren't clones, and different trees could be seen in every yard. The sight of the winter wonderland seemed to calm him a bit, and the warm feeling of his guardians' bodies pressed against his own calmed him farther. No matter what happened today, he would always have them near by.

OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoO

Officer Eric Goodwater looked over at the young teen sitting next to him. He looked smaller than most boys his age; heck, he was damn well bloody half their size. Of course, he knew why that was.

His mind played back what he saw in that cupboard. How one human being could treat another like that he would never understand; Eric had seen a lot of horrors in his life, but this was just one of the worst. Shuddering, he looked over at the boy. Harry he said his name was. Harry Potter. He hadn't heard of him, which was odd considering he had heard of the Dursleys. Their son seemed to get too much trouble to avoid knowing the Dursleys.

He looked back at the Potter child. Other than his obvious malnutrition, he was quite a striking teen. His messy black hair and green eyes would make him the attention of any girl's affection when he grew older. Clearing his throat, Eric looked back at the child. "Harry," he called.

OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo

"Harry." Harry was startled out of his mind speech with his guardians by the officer Goodwater.

"Yes?" Harry glanced at Goodwater before looking out the car window again. If he had watched his human companion, he would have seen that he was moving more slowly than was the norm. Instead, he watched the snow as it slowly passed by. Slowly…slower...then it stopped. Startled, Harry jerked out of his slight day dreaming to look around him. Everything was frozen in time; Officer Goodwater was motionless, reaching for him with one hand and his other still on the steering wheel. Frantically, he searched for his guardians, only to find them absent. Harry threw off his seat belt and stumbled out of the car, falling onto his back in the process. The snow he was watching before was now frozen in mid-air. Against the gray background of the sky it was both beautiful and haunting.

Tentatively getting to his feet, he looked around his surroundings. Two children were paused in a snowball fight, and a bird was about to take off in flight. He could even see the rays of sunlight that were frozen in time. Hesitating, Harry reached out and touched one of the frozen snow drops, which promptly exploded in a light of ice, water, and frost, causing the surrounding snow drops to explode and halt in the air. They made no noise as they exploded, but their display was loud and busy. Gasping, Harry walked away from the tiny snow bombs.

'Demeter, Dionysus, Ares! Please, where are you?' Harry walked around a world frozen in time, pushing tiny snowflakes aside and displacing the sunlight in a strange way. 'Demeter, Dionysus, Ares! I need you!' There was only an eerie that seemed to suffocate him. Starting to panic, Harry ran. He didn't know where he was going; all he knew was that something was most certainly wrong. So…he ran. He didn't know what to do, or where he was going, he just knew that he had to run from something. Or maybe it was to somewhere...

Harry stopped running when it felt as if his chest was about to burst. He bent over and clutched his side where a stitch was making it painful to breath and waited to catch his breath. When he was ready to run again, he heard it…crying--a baby's cry. Looking around for the source of the cry, he saw a house with light shining brightly through the windows. The house looked familiar…so familiar. His feet moved of their own accord, and as he got closer to the house and the crying got louder, a heavy ball of dread started fill his stomach. It wasn't until his nose was practically pressed against the window that he realized that the crying had stopped. He couldn't move from the spot as he watched the scene in front of him unfold.

In the middle of a soft buttercup yellow room was a soft gold and red baby crib. The animated animals moving on the side of the crib told him this was a wizard family. He looked around the room; there were toys and books discarded around the carpet, which was a soft, thick blue color. Above the cradle was a dragon, snake, and a phoenix flying and moving, powered by magic. Every once and a while he would see little baby hands reach for them. Harry was startled out of his musings when he heard talking beyond the door.

"NO! No, James, we can't let him take him!" Female crying could be heard through the door, adult crying followed by deep wreathing sobs. "Shhhhh, love, we won't let him, he is our son, not some weapon to be trained." The male voice comforted the female.

"But-" it was the female voice again, "he said…he said it wasn't our decision. That he was going to take-" here the women fell into sobs again. Harry could hear the man comfort his wife.

"Don't worry, love, we will do whatever it takes to keep him from taking Harry. Our son will grow up loved and wanted."

Harry felt his heart skip a beat and quicken when he heard his name. He wanted to move away, to run, but his traitorous feet stood fast in place and so he watched.

The child in the cradle started to cry, and with the tears the objects in the room started to move. The books exploded, and the toys that weren't already moving on their own started to move and play with each other. The walls turned from yellow to blue and the cradle became a giant green, silver, and gold teddy bear. In the lap of the bear was the baby who created the bear, a child with messy black hair and eyes as green as spring emeralds.

Harry could feel his chest tighten and his breath shorten as he watched the scene through the window. He was both dreading and anticipating the arrival of the child's parents. He watched as the door flew open and a woman with flame colored hair and eyes the same as the child ran into the room. Harry held his breath as he watched his mom run to his baby self.

She was beautiful; she was taller then he expected, and she wore muggle clothes--sweat pants and a silver gray tank top. She wore her hair in a pony tail with the exception of a few strands of hair that had escaped and now framed her face. Harry didn't notice that he was crying, but tears fell down his face and down his neck, staining the collar of his shirt. He placed his left hand against the window, and whimpered "Mum."

There she was. His mom, just a few meters away. He watched as his mom picked up the baby Harry and soothed him, and a deep pain stabbed him in the chest. He would never know what it would feel like to have his mom hug him. The walls in the room turned back to their normal buttercup yellow, but the toys continued to play and the crib remained a teddy bear.

"Did it happen again?" Harry and Lilly simultaneously looked toward the door of the nursery, where there stood a man with night black hair that fell to his shoulders in curls. He stood taller than Lily, and his eyes twinkled a Hershey chocolate color. He had gold wire-rimmed glasses perched on his nose, his lips were curved upward in a smile, and he had well-defined muscles that indicated some form of physical training. Like his wife, he wore muggle clothes--sweats and a black shirt that said "I wear the pants in this family…Just don't tell my wife that." Harry gave a watery smile and placed his right hand on the window, "Dad..," his voice came out cracked.

He watched as his dad walked to his mother and embraced her from behind and played peek-a-boo with baby Harry.

"James, I don't want my son to become a weapon." Lily glanced down at her sleeping son, who had eyes identical to her own; she ran her hand through the little patch of black hair on top of his head, and tiny black strands curled around her fingers. She smiled sadly down at the child in her arms.

"He won't, Love, he won't. I will make sure of that." James hugged his wife closer to him, "Lily I want you to consider something for me."

"Yes, darling?" Some fear escaped into her voice.

"If we die--and don't deny that it is a possibility--if we die, and Harry is somehow still alive, would you consider letting him be raised in the Potter Mansion? The elves can care for him, God knows they will smother him with love, and…" around here James voice seemed to break, "and our portraits can be there for him…they're--they're not us, but I would like him to have some…something to remember us by."

Lily laid baby Harry back onto the giant teddy bear that immediately wrapped its large fluffy arms around the child. She turned to her husband and hugged him, her tears streaming down her face and staining the front of his shirt. "That sounds like a wonderful idea," a hiccup laugh escaped her before she said, "but I thought that you would have wanted Sirius to have guardianship of him."

James placed his chin on top of his wife's head and took in her scent. "Oh, yes I most definitely want Sirius to be there as he grows up. Who else would pass on the great Marauders work? All our hard work and joking would have been for nothing!"

Neither of them laughed, though. Instead, they thought of the possibility of their son growing up without them.

Harry could only watch as his parents' embraced, too stunned to do or say anything. His attention was pulled away from his parents when a third voice entered the scene.

"My friends, please do not be angered by my sudden intrusion." All three of them, Harry, Lilly, and James, jerked and looked toward the door. There stood one Albus Dumbledore, and behind him stood one Peter Pettigrew. Lily intently went to baby Harry and picked him up; she cradled him close to her, unwilling to have ether of the threats near her precious son. James took a defensive stance in front of his wife and son, his wand drawn and pointed at them.

"Dumbledore!" James said with a sneer on his face.


	12. Chapter 12

Ch. 12  
_Female speaking)-_Snake - Demeter  
**(Younger Male Speaking)-**Dragon - Dionysus  
(Older Male Speaking)-Phoenix - Ares  
˜Harry mind thinking to his guardians  
'Other people mind thinking'

* * *

Harry observed the younger Dumbledore carefully. His beard was half the size he remembered it to be, and he wore no glasses."What are you doing here, Dumbledore? I don't remember inviting you into our home. Leave us and our son alone." James pointed his wand at Peter who cowered behind the older wizard at the threat of a wand and an experienced wizard behind it. "Get out Dumbledore. I don't want to have to fight you, but I will if I must."

James kept his wand trained on the older wizard who he had once held as a friend and mentor. "I said leave, Dumbledore, not to come further in.

"James, please," Dumbledore began, taking a step closer to the family, "you and I use to be so close. What happened to us to cause you to distrust me so much, to hate me so?"

"I discovered where you're true priorities lie, and that your attentions toward my son weren't quite what they seemed."

Dumbledore sighed as if he was both saddened and disappointed in James' decision and looked around the room. His pale blue eyes stayed emotionless until they landed on Lily and baby Harry; then they lit up with eagerness and a certain calculation. He kept his eyes on baby Harry, licked his lips once before looking back up at Lily.

"May I hold him?" He took two steps toward the mother and child when two things happened in very quick succession.

James's wand was spontaneously jammed into his throat, stopping him where he stood, and a gold and blue transparent shield, made of pure magic, appeared around Lilly and baby Harry. Baby Harry stared at Dumbledore with wide, frightened eyes before he burst into tears. Lily cradled him closer to her chest, murmuring soothing words of comfort, all the while glaring at Dumbledore.

"As you can see, Dumbledore, you are not wanted here. So leave."

Dumbledore stared back at his former student with anger and determination flashing in his eyes. "Why can't you see that this child is filled with power? He has such great potential! Give him to me, let me raise him, and he will be magnificent! He will be a god amongst men! He will strike down any who dare oppose him! Just let me have him!"

"NO! He is our _**son**_, not your weapon! Hear me now, Dumbledore," James said, poking his wand into the old man's chest. "As long as I live and breathe, you will never get your claws into our son!" James kept on forcing Dumbledore away from his wife and son with his wand. Growling, with reflexes of a cat unexpected for a man his age, Dumbledore swiftly snatched James' wand and threw it to the other side of the room, where Peter was whimpering and hiding in the shadows.

Dumbledore dodged James's outstretched hands and made his way over to Lily and baby Harry. He never got within four feet of the mother and child.

A giant flash of red and gold emitted in front of him and sent him flying into the wall opposite of the mother and child. He slid down the wall, revealing a giant hole where he had hit it. He landed in a crumpled mess on the carpet, which was changing colors again. The toys in the room were going wild; some were fighting with each other, a couple had even exploded, and a few had walked over to the fallen Dumbledore and started to kick him in the side. Blood was seeping from his nose and the corner of his mouth.

Silence filled the room except for baby Harry, who was whimpering quietly. "Leave, Dumbledore," Lily said, stepping through and out of the protection of the magical shield, which faded once she was through. "Leave, before something happens that we will all regret."

Dumbledore wiped the blood off his mouth and nose with the corner of his robe before staring up at Lily and James. "You won't always be here. One day, you will forget, and your guard will drop. Then, he will be mine."

Dumbledore stood up with one last eager and slightly obsessed look at baby Harry; he turned and left the room, kicking a few toys out of his way, with Peter trailing behind him.

James went up behind Lilly and hugged her. Silent tears trailed down her face as they looked out the door of the nursery.

* * *

Harry watched until the window faded to black. He stepped back, tears falling from his eyes, horror plastered on his face. His parents didn't trust Dumbledore; they already knew Peter was untrustworthy. Harry's breathe quickened and he lost feeling in his legs and fell to the snow-covered ground. He didn't see the house he grew up in for the first two years of his life fade then disappear; he didn't see a figure dressed in white robes walk up behind him. Silence reined around him.

"Sometimes," Harry flinched and looked behind him at the figure bathed in a white light, startled. "Sometimes," the figure continued, "the past can be most revealing and enlightening."

Harry couldn't tell what the person looked like because the hood on the robes efficiently hid any traces of the person's face. The robes also made it hard for Harry to determine the gender of the person, concealing everything in long white, glowing, robes.

"Who," Harry wiped his face with the back of his hands, "who are you?"

"The past hides many secrets and can answer many questions asked. The past can also bring up many questions unanswered." The person continued talking as if Harry hadn't asked a question. The person tilted its head as if he/she were listening to something, and then stared hauntingly at Harry, who shivered. Even though he couldn't see the person's eyes, he could feel the full weight of their stare on him. "But you," the person took one step toward Harry and placed a pair of lightly blue and silver glowing hands on each of his shoulders, "you don't belong in the past. Your time is the present."

Before Harry could make any response, the silver blue glow swallowed him, and he felt an icy chill fill him from the inside out. All over, his skin tingled numbly, as if thousands upon thousands of tiny toothpicks were poking him. Then everything went dark. "Its time for you to wake up Harry, your journey has only just begun."

"Harry. Harry, wake up! Wake up! Harry!" Harry jerked awake. Officer Goodwater was shaking him; he was back in the car.

"Wha-where are we?"

Officer Goodwater turned off the car. "We arrived at the station, and you were asleep."

"Oh." Harry shook his head and was startled when he didn't feel his guardians' presence. They were gone.

"Harry," Harry looked at Goodwater. His mind was still reeling from what he just experienced. "Harry, you are going to be asked some questions. You should answer them as truthfully as possible. Understand?"

Harry nodded, "Yes." He got out of the car at the same time as Eric Goodwater and followed him into the building.

* * *

Lina Thanatos was sitting at her desk, filing away the last of the papers. Finally, she was done. For the past six months, she had been working undercover in a drug mob, and just two months ago she finally had enough evidence to criminate the leader and his followers. Smiling, she stretched her hands over her head, glad she was done, when thunder and lightning lit up the sky.

"MAN! The weather sure is acting anomalous. First snow; now rain. What's next?"

Lina looked over at her partner, Angel Dark, who worked with her undercover.

"Anomalous, Dark? What is that, your new word of the day?"

Sticking out her tongue at Lina, Angel looked out the window (rain was already falling) before saying to her partner, "You should know, Thanatos. I got it off your calendar."

"Har, har, you were so funny I forgot to laugh. Did you at least finish your report?"

"Unfortunately, we all can't be work freaks like you, Thanatos. So, no, not yet."

The two partners would have continued with there friendly bantering, if the lights hadn't gone out and the door to the station hadn't banged open. An ominous figure stood in the doorway as a bolt of lightening lit up the sky.

Screaming, the two police women pulled out there guns and pointed them at the figure, yelling, "Freeze!"

"Put those away before you shoot someone!" The voice was familiar to them.

"Jesus, Goodwater, what the hell were you trying to do! Scare us to death?"

Eric Goodwater walked into the station as Lina and Angel put away their guns. "Nah, Dark, if I wanted to scare you to death all I had to do is remind you who you were married to."

Angel glared at him, "Yea, your brother, who also happens to be your twin."

"Ah, you know I'm the better looking twin."

"Then why did I marry Jacob and not you? Oh that's right, I have taste," she said, light sarcasm lacing her voice.

"Har, har, you were so funny I forgot to laugh."

"You know, you're the second person to say that to me today."

"Who was the first person?"

"Me." Thanatos grabbed her already cold coffee and took a sip of it. "What brings you back here Goodwater? I thought you were investigating a death at Privet Drive."

The smile that was on his face was replaced with a grimace. "I found signs of child abuse in the home of one Mr. and Mrs. Dursley." He stepped aside to reveal the boy who was standing behind him. The boy barley came up to Eric's chest; he was scrawny, thin, and had on clothes that were six or seven times his size. His hair, a midnight black, was messy and untamed; the glasses on his face were thick and unbecoming of him his vivid emerald eyes that looked at them.

* * *

Harry was waiting for Officer Goodwater to come back; he had left into an office at the back of the room. The other two policewomen had smothered him with two blankets and placed a cup of hot chocolate in his right hand and a powdered jelly donut in his left.

˜Demeter where are you! Ares, for Merlin's sake, answer me! Dionysus! Some one answer me, please!"

"Harry," Harry looked up at Lina Thanatos, "the commissioner wants to speak with you."

Harry stood up; he wiped the powder from the donut off his mouth with the sleeve of his shirt and drank the last of the hot chocolate, letting the blankets fall to the chair he was sitting on and following the policewomen into the back office.


	13. Chapter 13

Ch. 13

_(Female speaking)-_Snake - Demeter  
**(Younger Male Speaking)-**Dragon - Dionysus  
**_(Older Male Speaking)-_**Phoenix - Ares  
'Harry mind thinking to his guardians'  
'Other people mind thinking'

The room was colored blood red with golden vines branching out to different parts of the room. Every once in a while, the vines would move as if by some invisible breeze, and a golden bird on the wall would dart in and out between the vines.

Seven large maroon book shelves took up three of the walls, but only three of them where filled with books; the other four were filled with other unique things, some that moved or changed colors, others that changed shape or would break down and rebuild themselves in a different shape. Other knick-knacks were scattered along the blood red carpet. In the middle of the room was an old-fashioned desk and chair with papers, ink, and quills scattered over the surface. Somewhere to the corner of the room, where there was space that was not taken up by misplaced objects, stood a stand where one magnificent phoenix slept.

Taking up the fourth wall was a circular bed, covered in brown and red silk pillows and coverings. Sleeping in the bed was one old man, who to others was known as one of the greatest wizard alive, to some a nemesis that must be destroyed soon, and to one child a manipulator who had asserted his influences no more.

On the shelves of one of the bookcases were two objects, set apart from the rest of the clutter. One was a crystal ball that glowed with a red-orange light from the inside, and the other was a black obsidian bowl with runes and other carvings covering it. Inside the bowl swished a pale, yellow liquid; every once in a while, the liquid would shine and turn red, flashing pictures of a young boy with emerald green eyes and a lightning bolt scare, before returning to its original yellow color and then repeating the process.

Neither the old man nor the phoenix noticed this strange occurrence in the obsidian bowl, nor did they notice that one of the shadows from the room had come to life. Separating itself from the other shadows, it moved across the room until it stood in front of the book shelf that contained the two objects.

The shadow slowly became taller until it formed the shape of a man. Still blackened like a shadow, it was difficult to see any distinguishing features of the man, but at his temple two white streaks fell from his head. Lifting his shadowed hand, the man first grabbed the obsidian bowl and, before any alarms could arise from the movement, he waved his hand and dispelled any magic that would warn the sleeping old man of any trouble. Holding the bowl in his left hand, the shadow man placed his right hand over the top of the bowl. In the middle of his palm a small, red bloody line appeared, followed by three drops of blood that fell into the yellow liquid. The pale liquid immediately turned a blinding white before turning back to its original color, only now the liquid was no longer turning red and showing pictures of a child with emerald eyes. Replacing the bowl back in its original place, the man then reached for the glowing glass ball.

The glass ball reacted violently to the touch of anyone who wasn't its owner. It flashed lights of white and red, trying to gain the attention of the room's other occupants. Unfortunately for both the occupants of the room and the ball, the shadow man's reaction was quicker. He summoned the shadows of the room and smothered the ball in them, efficiently stopping all and any lights it was trying to give out.  
Placing the small orb in his pocket, he pulled out another crystal ball, the same as the one he just hid, and replaced it for the other one. The difference from this ball and the other is that this ball was to warn the shadow man of what the sleeping old man was doing, and the other is for the old man to control a certain black haired child.

Pulling out the other orb, hidden in the shadows, the man looked at it, tossed it twice in the air, and caught as many times it before crushing it in his hands with brute force. The phoenix woke with a soft trill. Moving silently toward the rare creature, the shadow man lifted his hand and scratched the phoenix beneath its chin, causing it to purr.

"Quiet, my friend, all is going as at is," none of the man's features changed but his eyes, which had bled from black to molten amber ice. "I thank you for your help. Soon, very soon, you will no longer be asked to stay hear. Your will be home soon, amongst your own kind, and soon will all wrongs be righted."

Stepping away from the phoenix, the man looked down at the sleeping form of the old man, his eyes filled with a deep hatred. "No longer will you be able to hurt or manipulate the Chosen one, for now he is under the protection of the gods. To mess with them is to ask for your own retribution."ﾝ Then, in a flash of shadow, the man disappeared.

Albus Dumbledore awoke with a start. He looked around his room, which was done in Gryffindor colors. He could have sworn that he had felt a presence in his room. Throwing back his covers, he grabbed his wand from under his pillow and walked at a quick pace toward the bookshelf that held his most prized possessions. He looked over the obsidian bowl and crystal orb. They looked untouched, but wanted to be sure. He waved his wand over the objects and murmured under his breath,_ **"€œEx viaz aet faz."**_

When nothing immediately jumped out and shouted that someone had muddle the objects, Dumbledore returned to his bed and fell asleep, "Good night Fawkes."

Fawke s tilted his head to the right and let out a soft trill, and the objects on the bookshelf were left unhindered for the rest of the night.

* * *

Outside a police station in Surrey stood two beings, A woman with curly red hair tied back with a white ribbon wore black jeans and a red jacket with the hood up, hiding her face from the world. Only her eyes were visible from within the hood--warm amber eyes that missed nothing of her surroundings. A younger man stood beside her, and, like her, he wore black jeans, only his jacket was leather and fell to his knees with no hood, leaving his face bare and vulnerable to the pelting rain. His eyes were lifted toward the cloudy sky, twinkling as if he knew some deep secret unknown to the rest of the world. The two were waiting for the last of their group to appear.

"When did he say he would be done, Ami?" the young man looked over at his sister. She was leaning against the building of the police station."He said he would return when he had completed the task to free our Chosen one from the hold of the old man."ﾝ

The blond man went and stood next to the red-head woman, and the two waited. They didn't know how long they had been waiting, but after what seemed to be over twenty minutes, a shadowy figure appeared in front of them. The shadow took the form of an older man with long black hair streaked white at the temples. He was dressed in silk black pants and a black shirt; he wore the same kind of leather jacket as the blond man. He walked up and stood in front of them.

"Is it done?"ﾝ

The man nodded, "Completed."ﾝ

"So...is it time?"ﾝ

The woman and the young man looked toward the older man, "It is time." And the three walked into the police station.

* * *

It was an Old West standoff. Emerald green eyes clashed with striking ice blue eyes, but neither would back down. Commissioner Stealth wanted questions answered, and Harry wasn't ready to give them.

"Harry, please tell me how the Dursley's treated you. It's important to both the case and your welfare." Bukama Stealth leaned forward and tipped her fingers in front of her, as she stared at the child that sat in front of her. He was a little on the short side, he wore clothes that were obviously hand-me-downs, his glasses didn't suit his face and his hair was wild and unruly.

Harry lowered his head, "Ok."ﾝ Commissioner Stealth leaned forward, eager to get any information to place the Dursley's in jail. She heard what Officer Copter and Goodwater had found, and it was 'none too pretty.' "The Dursley's,"ﾝ Harry continued, "They treated me as they always treated me, which was how they treated me when I first went to live with them."ﾝ

"HARRY! PLEASE! You have to tell me what they were like and stop skirting around the issue. I know you're probably embarrassed, but, believe me, there is nothing to be embarrassed about, and you didn't do anything. Your relatives did, and that's why they must pay for there crimes."ﾝ

Harry was about to open his mouth to retaliate when the door to the commissioner's office burst open, followed immediately by the flashing of lighting and thunder. There in the doorway stood three magnificent beings, beings that Harry immediately recognized.  
"Oh, bloody hell."ﾝ


End file.
